Another Night At St Bart's
by x-gemarrrr
Summary: Molly can't sleep. The thought of doing nothing but lying awake all night is horrible so she makes her way to work. Of course. But there is someone there waiting for her. Someone that she didn't need to see right now but someone that she can never help but want to see. Fits with original story arc. First chapter set after 3x02, second set after 3x03. Spoilers for all of series 3.
1. A Night At St Bart's

**I have finally woken up from my Fanfiction hibernation because I have been reading so many great Sherlock stories that I couldn't resist trying one myself! This occurs sometime after 3x02 but there's really only spoilers for 3x01. This is a one-shot so far as I wanted to post it before tonight's EPIC episode airs but if it still works afterwards, I might do some more chapters. :) Hope you like!**

The early hours of the morning had arrived and the room was as dark as when Molly had first fallen asleep. The sound of snoring had woken her, causing her eyes to flutter open reluctantly. She scrunched them closed tightly again whilst moaning and rolling over. She grabbed the covers and threw them over her head, desperate to block out the annoying sound but it only seemed to get louder. Molly huffed in annoyance and sat up to look at her fiancée, Tom, who was quite blissfully unaware that his sleeping habits were keeping her awake. After a moment, she hit the bed hard and he stopped at the sudden sound. Molly sighed in relief as silence filled the room again but as she went to settle down, Tom turned over and the snoring continued. Rolling her eyes, Molly reached over to grab her phone. 2:16am. Great. She knew now that sleep was a distant fantasy that night and couldn't bear the thought of lying in the dark for hours on end, waiting for him to wake up so she got off her bed and quickly dressed herself before pulling her hair into a loose ponytail. As she reached the bedroom door, she turned to look at Tom, wanting and willing herself to feel some sort of affection for him before she left but all she felt was annoyance. She was going to have to spend the rest of her life with that snore.

Molly's feet carried her down the road without any direction from her mind which was focused entirely on the situation that she now found herself in. How had she got like this? How had she let herself fall into an engagement that she wasn't entirely sure she wanted? As she asked these questions to herself, she answered them almost instantly. Molly did not like to be alone and in the two years that had led her to met Tom, she had never felt more alone in her life. He filled a hole that had been left by a certain someone but that certain someone still never left her thoughts. But she felt okay with it at the time. Sherlock was never going to be around her again, he was never going to make her totally insane and obsessed again, he was never going to want to kiss and punch him at the same time again so it was okay to move on, to let someone fill that hole because it needed filling. But then he came back and it was like the hole that Tom had been gradually filling healed instantly but brought with it confusion and regret. Sherlock's return meant that she was happy again but for the wrong reasons. Tom was her fiancée now but Molly had always known deep inside her that he was a stand-in, a man that could just about make her happy enough to carry on. Sherlock's return had healed her instantly and she knew she was in trouble. She knew it especially when he had called her out of the blue and she had run over to see him. She had cancelled all her plans for the day just to be with him, to be Sherlock's stand-in for John. But she didn't care about that, she was just happy to be with him and she knew that if the invitation had indeed been for dinner like she had hoped, she would have accepted, fiancée or not.

Her feet stopped suddenly and she looked up to see that she had arrived at St Bart's. Work. At 2:45am. That's what her brain needed now though, a distraction. She walked as silently as she could through the corridors to her lab, not wanting to make too much noise as the echoes of her footsteps off the walls made her feel uneasy at night. She turned a corner to face the doors that she needed and paused as she saw a glow of yellow light flooding through the crack at the bottom of them. Someone had beaten her in there and the only person who would be mad enough to work at this time of the morning, other than herself, was the one person she was trying to distract herself from. Molly inhaled slowly and tensed her hands and arms before turning quietly on the spot to go back the way she came but before she could even take one step, the door behind her swung open.

"Ah, Molly. I thought I heard your mouse-like steps outside." Sherlock said loudly, his deep voice bouncing off the walls and the floor. Molly turned to face him and felt everything in her melt as her eyes took in the curls of his hair that he had obviously been messing with in concentration and his slender frame that always looked so good in the suits he wore. When she looked at his face, she noticed a frown lining his forehead. "You're not leaving are you? You haven't even arrived." He asked and Molly realised that her feet wouldn't move in the opposite direction to him even if she had tried to force them to. She quickly shook her head and cleared her throat before speaking.

"No, no. I just didn't want to disturb you if you were working." She squeaked.

"No, it's good you're here, I need your opinion on something." He replied quickly before spinning on his heel and disappearing into the lab, leaving the door open for her to walk through. She shook her head at herself, knowing that she should turn around and go back to bed with Tom but her feet led her through the door anyway and she shut it behind her, watching Sherlock hovering over a microscope and feeling her heart quicken as she looked at him. The last time they were in this position, he had told her he needed her. Not in the way that she had hoped but he had finally opened up to her and let her see a glimpse of the Sherlock behind the cold detective. She had felt closer to him in that moment than any other and being in the same place and the same time of the morning made her nervous.

"Are you going to stand there until daylight?" Sherlock asked, his eyes not straying from the microscope and Molly stammered something inaudible before walking over to him, making sure that she maintained a good distance between them both.

"What do you need my opinion on?" She asked eventually and Sherlock huffed before pulling away from what he was looking at.

"I can't quite tell if this piece of carpet matches the sample that I took from Mr Orden's house yesterday." He said, confusion etched on his face and Molly frowned as she looked at him, sure that he could easily figure out something as trivial as that. When she didn't move, he looked up at her, his eyes meeting her's and causing her to exhale faster than usual. Before she gave anymore signs away for Sherlock to read, she stumbled towards the microscope, wishing that he would move a little further away so she didn't have to lean over him quite as much. "Well?" Sherlock asked after a moment and Molly could feel his breath on her neck. She quickly moved away from him and the desk and shook her head.

"No, not a match." She replied, her voice higher than before. Sherlock nodded once and placed his finger on his lips in a thinking pose. "Bad news?" She asked after he didn't say anything and almost jumped when he suddenly stood up and walked away from the table. She never could get used to how quickly he did everything.

"No, good. It proves my suspicions." He responded loudly before turning to face her. "False alibi." He added before falling silent again, his eyes on her and Molly knew that they were studying her, noticing things that other people wouldn't see. Probably realising that her lack of make-up meant that she was in a rush to leave or the little bit of sleep that still sat in the corner of her eye, telling him that she had been woken up recently or the black lines under her eyes that showed that this was not a one-time occurence.

"So Tom snores does he?" He asked after a moment and Molly smiled in spite of herself. She always felt a little exposed after he deducted something about her without so much as a word but it did always manage to impress her. Well, most of the time. She nodded in response and he shrugged, looking to his left away from her, his eyes obviously not looking at anything in the room as his mind focused elsewhere. "You should probably tell him to quit smoking, it might help a bit." He said and Molly frowned, feeling her stomach drop even as she tried to object. "Tom doesn't smoke." She squeaked even though she knew it was futile to argue with Sherlock Holmes. "He likes you to think that." His eyes snapped back to her and she realised she was about to have a reel of information that she would have to compute thrown at her.

"Haven't you noticed the strong smell of cologne that lies on his coat and scarf? It's because he only smokes outside so he covers himself in the stuff before meeting you. When he greets you, his breath probably always smells of mints and as much as you like that, as it makes you think he looks after himself, it is in fact only because he knows you'll kiss him and he doesn't want you to smell it on his breath." Molly opened her mouth to speak but quickly closed it again as he continued. "I don't know if you've noticed his incessant tapping on tables or his lap, I certainly have, it gives me a dreadful headache. It keeps his fingers busy, like a nervous twitch. It's the same when he plays with your hair. It may seem like a lovely gesture but actually it's merely a coping mechanism. He also-."

"Okay, enough Sherlock." Molly interrupted, her voice louder than usual and he stopped abruptly.

"Sorry. Too far?" He asked, and she saw a genuine apology in his eyes which meant that any thought of being angry at him disappeared as quickly as it came.

"A little. You know, all you have to say sometimes is 'the reason I know is because I'm Sherlock.' That would probably suffice. I believed you as soon as you told me." She smiled and he returned it sheepishly.

"But where's the fun in that? I don't get to show off then." He replied with a wink that took Molly's breath away momentarily. He looked at her with what seemed like amusement until she managed to find her voice again.

"Anyway, you smoke." She said feebly but it seemed to have an effect on him as he frowned again, the smile that she rarely saw on his face disappearing. "Yes." He replied shortly before turning around and walking away from her.

"But only occasionally. I manage to avoid it most of the time. I don't lie about it either." He finished facing her again, a table seperating them and she suddenly felt as if he were teasing her, hoping that she would argue or even just agree with him.

"Sherlock, why did you ask for my help?" She asked, wanting to avoid what he seemed to be trying to do.

"I told you, I needed your opinion on something." He replied cooly and Molly rolled her eyes at him.

"Oh come on. You knew the second that you looked at that sample that it wasn't a match." She responded, arguing with him for a different reason but she could see that this wasn't the direction he had wanted the conversation to go. This intrigued her.

"Well, sometimes it's nice to have a second opinion." He replied, walking slowly now next to the table, his hands in his pockets and his gaze at his feet.

"You never need a second opinion." Molly said, her eyebrow raised in confusion as she tried to register what was making Sherlock lie. He didn't like lies.

"Oh alright." He said finally, following the table round to her and not speaking again until he was in front of her. "I knew that you had turned to leave and I wanted a reason to make you stay." He said, his voice low and Molly swallowed, knowing that the effect of him standing so close to her was easily readable on her face.

"Well it worked." She whispered and he sighed and dropped his head.

"It was selfish of me I know. You didn't want to see me but I wanted to see you." He continued, speaking matter-of-factly and Molly shook her head, too quickly she thought afterwards.

"No, I did want to see you. I always want to see you." She let out a little gasp as she realised what she had said and chanced looking up at him. There was no reaction on his face as he looked at her, instead he seemed to be waiting for her to continue. "But I'm engaged to Tom now Sherlock and I don't think it's appropriate to spend the early hours of the morning alone with another man who I -." She stopped, looking down again as she felt her cheeks flush in embarrassment.

"Who you what?" He asked, his voice quieter than usual.

"Nothing." She said and resisted the urge to sigh in relief when he seemed to let it go.

"But you were coming here for a distraction were you not?" Sherlock asked and she nodded wordlessly. "From your fiancée's apparently very loud snoring?" She nodded again. "Why is my being here any more inappropriate that that?" Molly blinked, unsure of where he was going but she could tell that wherever it was, she wouldn't like it.

"Sorry, what?" She asked and he inhaled deeply before answering.

"Well, you obviously don't want to be with your fiancée right now so you have sneaked away from him in the middle of the night. Why would you do that if you were happy? You could have quite easily have slept on the sofa or made him sleep there and it isn't because you are afraid of hurting his feelings as right now you don't care if he wakes up and you're still not there. Not once have you shown any sign of guilt or worry." He began, his words coming out fast like a train that had lost control down a steep hill. Molly felt her chest tighten with every syllable he spoke but she knew that all she could do was listen and wait until it was over. "However, you used the excuse of not being able to sleep to get away from him, to have some time alone and only because of my presence did you realise what you were doing and so you turned away, not wanting to be faced with what you really feel. You don't love him Molly, you love the idea of him, the idea of being someone's wife but if you can't stand to be in the same room as him how are you going to be happy?"

Sherlock stopped just as Molly's hand collided with his left cheek. The sound echoed around the room, silencing everything else, even Molly's breathing. Sherlock raised his hand to his face which was was now turned to the right and his eyes were closed. The tension that filled the small gap between them built with every second that passed but Molly would not break it. She couldn't. She couldn't give in to him this time. After a moment, she stormed past him, her long hair flicking past his shoulder and tears filling her eyes which spilt over just as she felt a hand grab her arm. "Molly wait." Sherlock almost pleaded and she stopped.

"I'm sorry. That was out of line."

"You can't leave it can you Sherlock? You have to say it how it is all the time. You just can't let me move on and be happy." She said, her voice trembling as the tears that she couldn't control ran down her face. Sherlock moved to take her other arm with his hand and pulled her around so that he was almost holding her. Quickly, she lowered her head to look at her feet, not wanting to face him.

"I'm sorry. I am sorry that what I said hurt you, but I don't take it back because you aren't happy Molly." He replied and she looked up at him. "And I meant what I said before. You deserve to be happy Molly Hooper." His voice was now low and quiet and Molly felt herself be taken over by him again, the way his hands felt on her arms, the way his piercing eyes looked at her and the way he said her name. She would never be free from him. She had known this for quite some time but she had always thought she could live with it but now she wasn't so sure. It was too painful.

"Well the one man that can make me happy, I can't have." She whispered, her voice still shaking as she reluctantly stepped away from his grasp. "Goodbye Sherlock." She turned to walk away again but heard his footsteps behind her.

"Molly, stop. I -." He said as he ran in front of her, their eyes meeting again.

"You what Sherlock? What can you possibly say now to make this any better?" She asked, her tears now audible in her voice.

"I-." He stammered again, a frown on his forehead making him seem distressed. Molly couldn't figure out what he was trying to communicate to her, all she wanted to do was get away from him before he made her feel any worse but then she saw him move and she was frozen to the spot. He lowered his head slowly and carefully as she felt his hand rest on her neck. She felt herself be pulled towards him and before she could register what was about to happen, his lips had met hers. Molly could tell that he was hesitant at first, as if his thoughts hadn't quite caught up with what he was doing but soon, she felt his other arm wrap around her waist and the hand that was on her neck move up into her hair. Molly responded with an ease that she knew was wrong but she couldn't help but let her own hands clutch at his jacket tightly as if letting go would make him disappear. Her brain wouldn't even let her think about Tom, all she could feel or compute was how it felt to kiss Sherlock. Finally. His lips moved with hers with a passion that she never thought could be within him and she realised that it was even better than she had ever imagined.

All too soon though, she felt his hold loosen and he stepped away, his eyes wide as he looked at her, breathless and shocked at what had just occurred. They stood at looked at each other for what could have been hours before Sherlock turned away from her and strode down the corridor, his head down and his steps quick. Molly stared after him with her mouth open as she tried to compute what had just happened. She wanted to call him, to make him turn around but he was gone before she had tried and it was too late. Suddenly the lab seemed very quiet and cold and she realised that she no longer wanted to be there. She turned around, not sure what she was looking for before her gaze fell on his coat, lying on the back of a chair. She went over slowly to pick it up, his scent swarming her brain and making her think of him holding her like he just had and she couldn't help but let a small smile creep onto her face as she turned off the light and went through the doors. All that she had to decide now was whether she could face going back to Tom.

**Hope you liked it! Please review and I'll know whether to stop being silly and post a bit more!**


	2. A Night Of Explanations

**So I decided to do a second chapter! I wanted to watch the last episode (which was AMAZING) so that I could fit my story idea in with the actual story arc. I think I managed it and this is the result. This chapter is set after episode 3 so has major spoilers for 3x03 just as a warning. :) **

Over and over it played, his face right in front of her's as he spoke the four words that felt like a slap in Molly's face. She wanted to scream 'no!' To try and make him stop but she couldn't move. All she could do was watch in horror as Moriarty's face began to morph into someone else. His short black hair grew and curled, his face lengthened and his cold, black eyes turned warm and blue. His voice changed from a uncomfortable high-pitched tone to a deep baritone but the four words that he spoke stayed the same. The four words that hit Molly hard over and over.  
"Did you miss me?"  
Molly snapped her eyes open and sat up straight in her bed. She moved her hand to her chest and felt her heart beating quickly, mirroring her breath that was coming out sharp and fast. This was becoming a regular occurrence recently, the lack of sleep except now, instead of snoring keeping her awake, it was her own dreams that helped sleep elude her.  
Slowly, she turned and let her feet dangle off the side of the bed, knowing that she would have to busy herself for a while before she could try and sleep again. She felt her heart slowly return to it's normal pace as she stepped onto her bedroom floor but the picture of Moriarty slowly turning into Sherlock was still itched onto her brain. This hadn't been the worst part though, instead it had been the question that they had asked constantly as if they both knew that it had tormented her as soon as Sherlock had left and as soon as Moriarty had returned. The latter she had not missed at all and the former she always missed.  
Molly exhaled slowly into her quiet room before grabbing her dressing gown and walking into her kitchen, her body mindlessly taking her over to the kettle out of habit. She waited for it to boil as she stared into nothing, her mind still playing tricks on her and making her replay the dream in her head.  
The click from the kettle snapped her out of her daydreaming and she made herself a coffee before walking over to the window to look out at the empty street which had an orange glow given from the street lights above.  
She absent-mindedly blew her drink that she was clutching in her hands, looking at a lone car turn the corner at the end of the street. As it neared, she could see that it was a black cab but as it slowed to a stop outside her flat, her heart quickened in pace again. She guessed instantly who would be inside but it took her seeing a head of curly dark hair poking out of the open door for her to move away from the window. She looked around her living room, throwing her cup down onto the nearest table before her eyes dropped down to herself and what she was wearing. She had to have chosen today to wear her kitten pyjamas...  
Quickly, she tightened her dressing gown around her and flattened down her hair as much as she could whilst she walked swiftly over to the front door. She stopped outside it with just enough time to rub the left over make-up from the day before off her eyes before she heard the loud knock at the door that she had been expecting. Molly silently counted to five in her head before opening the door, trying to look as confused as she could.  
"Sherlock?" She asked, acting as if she had no idea that it would be him knocking on her door.  
"Yes, it's me." He replied before flashing a grin at her. "Can I come in?"  
"What time do you call this for a drop-in visit?" Molly asked, not moving aside to let him past her.  
"Why, what time is it?" He responded, the frown on his forehead telling her that he genuinely had no idea. "Three in the morning Sherlock." She said and he raised his eyebrows in realisation.  
"Really? Hmm. Must have missed most of my night somewhere. Oh well. Can I?" He asked again before squeezing himself past her and into her flat. She watched him, her mouth slightly open in surprise. She hadn't heard so much as a word from him in months and now he was barging into her flat like it was only yesterday that he last saw her.  
"Lovely little place you have. Suits you." He called from the living room and she sighed deeply before shutting the door and following him. "Everything about it screams 'Molly'." He added, spreading out his hands to outline her name when he said it. His eyes scanned the room as he stood there calmly and she suddenly found herself feeling irritated.  
"Sherlock." She said firmly and his eyes flicked to her, causing her to forget momentarily why she was angry.  
"Hmm?" He asked before holding his hand out to her. "No, wait don't tell me. You're angry at me." Molly laughed once at his simple statement.  
"Wow. That must have been your most difficult deduction yet." She replied sarcastically, folding her arms across her chest and tucking her dressing gown round her.  
"I'm sorry I haven't been in contact. I've been fairly busy." He said, without a hint of remorse and it took everything in Molly not to run up to him and slap him. She couldn't start making a habit of that.  
"Busy? Busy? Right." She scoffed, her temper rising as she took a step towards him. "Too busy to talk to me but not too busy to get a girlfriend and be at it seven times a night?" She asked, her voice raising in volume as she felt herself become more and more angry.  
"How did I know that you would read the tabloids?" Sherlock muttered but Molly ignored him.  
"Or too busy to get engaged?"  
"Not engaged anymore plus it was a fake engagement."  
"Or too busy to get shot and nearly die? Oh, but you were probably far too busy to let me see you to stop me worrying." She rambled, her eyes stinging with tears of hurt as she let what she wanted to yell at him for so long come out.  
"I don't see that it's fair to blame me for nearly dying." He retorted.  
"And you were obviously far too busy to even say goodbye when you were almost exiled."  
"Mycroft's fault."  
"But the one thing that you possibly couldn't have found anytime for in between all the wondrous things that Sherlock Holmes gets up to was explain to me what the hell happened at St Bart's that night." She tensed her fists in an effort to keep her tears under control and this time, Sherlock did not reply. "Instead you found time to tease me about breaking off my engagement, get addicted to drugs and to get into bed with some...some..." She let her sentence tumble away, knowing it wasn't really fair to judge the woman that had fallen into Sherlock's trap. She just couldn't help but dislike her that she had managed to get him when Molly couldn't, even if it wasn't real.  
Molly dropped her head so she was looking at the floor, feeling lost and drained. She soon felt a pair of hands take her arms gently but she quickly shrugged them off.  
"Don't touch me Sherlock." She whispered, turning away from him.  
"Molly..." He tried but didn't move towards her.  
"I'm done with you hurting me Sherlock. I'm just... I'm done with it." Molly replied, her voice tired and she didn't care that her tears were now visible on her cheeks when she turned to face him. "You told me once that I count, that I mattered. Well do you want to know what I think? What I have managed to 'deduce'?" She stepped towards him again and she could tell from the look on Sherlock's face that he hadn't been expecting this and that he had no idea what to do. Something that Sherlock never liked. "I think you were lying. You were lying to me because you needed my help like you lie to everyone that you need. And that kiss? That was just because you didn't like Tom and so you knew that that would be just enough to get me to end my engagement. Well congratulations Sherlock, you fooled me like you always do!" She threw her hands up to her face and covered her eyes, surprise finally settling into her that she had just said what she had said.  
"Molly..." He said again, his voice as soft as his steps that she could hear coming towards her. She refused to move, refused to look up at him and see truth in his eyes. She had convinced herself over the last months that he had never cared about her really, that he had merely used her as a pawn in his 'game' but to have him confirm her suspicions would be too much for her to take. As much as she knew she shouldn't, she still cared about him.  
"You are wrong again. You're always wrong about my feelings towards you." Sherlock said, his voice deep and quiet and when Molly dropped her hands, she saw that he was inches from her. "You know, you saved my life."  
"What?" She sniffed, completely confused.  
"When Mary shot me, I had a matter of-"  
"What? Wait, when Mary shot you?!" She interrupted, her eyebrows raising in shock but Sherlock waved her concern away with a flick of his hand.  
"Not important, when I was shot, I had a matter of seconds to decide what to do and consequently whether I would live or die and you were there to help me." Sherlock reached up with his right hand to tap his head with two fingers. "In here. It could have been anyone helping me Molly but it was you. I chose you." Molly shook her head, not wanting to let him cloud her thoughts again. This was just another one of his tricks, one of his lies to get her to forgive him like she always did.  
"No. If you did choose me, it's because I'm a scientist. If John knew about that sort of stuff then you would have picked him." She mumbled and Sherlock shook his head quickly, almost in annoyance that she wasn't understanding him.  
"In my mind palace Molly, it's my thoughts, my knowledge. I make people tell me the information I already know to make more sense of it. I could have made John say those things but I didn't. I wanted you there with me, to help me. Remember Molly, I have always trusted you and I still do." He replied and Molly also began to shake her head.  
"Then if you do, why have you not seen me since the day John brought you to the lab, drugged up to your eyeballs? That's months Sherlock. Months without so much as a word." She asked and he shrugged half-heartedly.  
"The case. Magnusson. I had to stop him. I had to figure out his secret, a way to get him and I couldn't. So I had to lock everything else away and focus entirely on him otherwise he would have been ahead of me and he was in the end, because I let my concentration slip to be a marriage counsellor." He replied and Molly let her worries about the Watson's fall to the back of her mind for the moment as she was starting to believe him. His words rang true, she knew how is mind worked, how it had to focus entirely on the puzzle before him and how it struggled completely to compute any form of emotion or attachment. If he did truly care for her, for him to have acted on it would have been too much for him to handle. But there were still some things left unanswered.  
"So when you had done it. When Magnusson was gone and you were about to be put on a plane heading thousands of miles away, why didn't you want to see me then?"  
"After I shot Magnusson, I was arrested instantly, taken away and it was only a matter of hours before they had decided my sentence. I had no time and was given no time by my wonderful older brother to contact you. Instead, I gave John a message for you containing most of the things that I am telling you now but then a mere five minutes after I left, I was back and the message became pointless." His words began to fill Molly like a warmth through her body but the thought of why he was back stopped her from being truly happy at what he was saying.  
"You're frightened." Sherlock said matter-of-factly but with a note of concern in his voice, his eyes taking in her expression and body language. "You don't need to be scared Molly, I'm not going anywhere, Mycroft has use for me here and -." He stopped mid-sentence and turned his head slightly as Molly lifted her finger to her mouth absent-mindedly to chew at her nail. "But that's why you are frightened. The reason I'm back scares you." He let the sentence hang until Molly flicked her eyes up to his and immediately she saw understanding appear in them. "Oh Molly. You don't have to be frightened of Moriarty."  
"So he's definitely back then?" She asked, her voice quiet and timid.  
"It would seem that way yes. Well if I can fake my own death, why can't he?" He replied, his forced light-hearted tone barely covering the irritation that he hadn't won Moriaty's game. "But he won't come for you Molly, he still doesn't think -."  
"That I mean anything to you, yeah I get that." Molly finished for him, not sure if she wanted it to stay that way, even to keep herself safe. "But that's not why I'm worried. Yeah, it repulses me quite a bit that I went on, not one, but three dates with the creep but it's you I worry about." She said softly and Sherlock frowned at her.  
"Me?"  
"Last time he was around, I saw what happened to you. He controlled your life Sherlock and I don't want to see you how you were before again."  
"Well, I'll try not to jump off any buildings this time." He replied, masking over her worry with humour. Molly smiled, deciding to let him be for now. She would worry for him and be there for him like last time if he needed but for now, she didn't want to focus on Moriarty. She had Sherlock here in front of her and that was what mattered right at that moment. "So what else was in your message that you haven't already told me?" She asked, noticing that Sherlock had been staring into the distance, his mind obviously whirring.  
"Hmm?" He asked, turning his eyes back to her.  
"The message you gave to John for me. What did it say?"  
"Well I wrote that down and I think he still has it. Not sure if I can remember..." He said and smiled when Molly merely raised her eyebrow at him in disbelief. "That would be annoying wouldn't it, not remembering things? How do you all cope?" He closed his eyes suddenly, his forehead creased in concentration and his hands lifted into the air as if ready to catch something. Molly folded her arms and lent back onto the wall behind her as she watched him, a smile on her face as she tried to imagine what was going on in his head.  
"Engagement, tabloids, exile all covered." His hand swiped at the air with each word as if he was trying to bat them away. "Magnusson, shooting, slapping... Not quite covered that one yet actually." His eyes snapped open briefly to look at her. "We can cover that later." He added before closing his eyes again, letting a blush rise on Molly's cheeks unseen. "So that leaves...She watched as he moved his hands in front of his face, palms flat and facing each other and he moved them closer to each other as if shrinking something invisible in mid air.  
"How long was this message?" Molly whispered and was immediately shushed by Sherlock who was now using his fingers to pinch the air. "Ahh..." He opened his eyes to look at her again, not faltering as he took in her amused expression. "The kiss we shared." He finished and Molly felt her heart quicken. This had been the thing she had wanted to talk about with him for so long. Ever since she had escaped her ex-fiancee's snores to meet him and ever since he had walked away from her wordlessly, she had wanted to confront him but it had never been the right time. However, now that it was, she felt her nerves getting the better of her.  
"Let me say exactly what was written." Sherlock said to Molly's relief. She hadn't any idea how to proceed so she relaxed back into wall again and let him talk, her mouth chewing at her fingernail again in anticipation. "I'm sorry if I hurt you. That was never my intention and never will be. What I experienced that night at St Bart's confused me and like a coward, I couldn't face it so I walked away. After a sleepless night of thinking it over and over, I decided that I kissed you, merely as a way to get you to break off your engagement but remain my ally as it would mean that the two of us would have been better off but that conclusion didn't satisfy me completely so I decided instead upon an experiment that would also help my case towards Magnusson. That is where the idea for my faux relationship with Janine began. I wanted to see how I would cope in a situation where I was romantically involved with another person and to see if I could recapture what I felt with you that night. However, the experiment failed. By the end of the engagement, I had never managed to find what I felt which left me with one conclusion: I couldn't recreate the same feeling from that night by kissing just anybody so it must be only when I kiss you."

Molly stared, her mouth slightly open as Sherlock continued to ramble on about his conclusions to his 'experiment'. Her brain was too busy filtering through his endless speech to listen anymore. Everything he said was pointing to the one thing that she had wanted to be true for so long but had never dared to hope could be possible. Sherlock liked her and he liked her the way she liked him. It took a few seconds for the thought to sink in and even after it had, she still stared at him, not moving or speaking, just watching him talk, obviously completely oblivious that his words were having such an effect on her until his eyes suddenly focused on hers, catching a look in them that made him fall silent mid-sentence.  
They looked at each other for a moment, communicating somehow without speaking before Sherlock took a slow step forward, his movements careful as if he thought moving to fast would shatter the moment. Molly felt her breathing quicken and she was glad for a moment that the wall was behind her for support. His face was so close to hers now that she felt as if nothing else around her really existed apart from him. She could tell from the intense look in his eyes that he was studying her and maybe even trying to study himself and the effect that she had on him. Soon, the tension became to much for Molly and she knew she had to act before Sherlock's attention was taken away from her. She took one more look at his face, his wonderful eyes, his sharp cheekbones and his amazing curly mass of hair before lifting her hands up to take the collar of his coat. Before he could react, she pulled him towards her and felt his lips touch hers. He responded to her almost immediately and he moved his hands to the side of her head so that the wall that she was leaning on supported him. She couldn't help but let her own hands stray upwards so that they weaved into his hair, her fingers closing so that she gently pulled on a few of the curls. Molly felt a spark run through her body as she was certain she heard a noise of approval come from Sherlock's throat but she dared not to open her eyes to check in case he suddenly broke away from her and left again like last time.  
She felt her stomach drop when his hands moved from the wall and he began to pull away from her, certain that her fears were about to come true but soon she felt her hands be taken by his and she flicked her eyes open when he rested his forehead against hers.  
"What is it about you Molly Hooper?" He whispered. She smiled and shrugged, her head spinning.  
"I dunno. I'm pretty ordinary." She replied, regretting her words when he snapped back away from her, a frown on his forehead as he shook his head.  
"Ordinary?" He asked, his tone alarmed. "Ordinary?" He repeated before taking her face in his hands and locking her with his gaze. "You are anything but ordinary. You are the only woman that has ever made me feel like this. You make me feel things that I -." He stopped, searching for the words. He obviously still hadn't quite figured out the 'romance' thing yet. "Well, you make me feel things. You find the human in me when even I have forgotton it was there and you see me when no-one else does. Molly, you are extraordinary." He finished passionately, his hands still holding her face as she smiled widely and felt a blush form on her cheeks. "And I'm sorry it has taken me this long to realise how extraordinary you are."  
Molly let out the breath that she had been holding before giggling, her heart suddenly feeling as if it was floating. Sherlock frowned at her, obviously thinking she was laughing at him.  
"What? What did I say?" He asked uncertainly, dropping his hands and Molly reached out to take them with her own as she laughed again.  
"Everything. You said everything that I have been waiting to hear for so long." She replied and his frown turned to a sad smile.  
"I'm sorry..." He began but Molly held a finger to his lips to silence him.  
"It doesn't matter." She whispered. "What matters is that you're here now." She closed her eyes as he lifted his hand to stroke her hair from her face again before she felt him grip the back of her neck gently and pull her towards him. She let her mind think of nothing else but him when his lips met hers once more. This kiss was soft, as if he was trying to communicate to her everything that he couldn't put into words.  
Soon, she felt his arms wrap around her tightly and she let her senses be filled with his smell and the feeling of being in his arms. Instinctively, she moved her hands to them and slowly ran them upwards towards his shoulders before wrapping her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss which began to become more passionate the longer it continued. Sherlock used his arms to pull her off the wall and further into him and she gladly let him take the lead, her mind still not quite believing that this was happening. They stumbled backwards, Molly moving her hands down so that she was grabbing his coat again before she suddenly felt a jerking, falling sensation and found herself lying on top of Sherlock on the sofa.  
Molly pulled away from him and laughed, her fingers now softly playing with his hair. Sherlock let his gaze linger on her and reached up to take her hand. Neither said anything for a few moments until his eyes flicked briefly over to the back of the chair across the room.  
"You have my coat." He said and she smiled sheepishly.  
"You left it at St Bart's and I kept it, hoping it meant that you would have to come and get it but it didn't work out that way." She replied, not admitting that she had also used it as a blanket occasionally to keep herself warm.  
"I have lots of coats." He responded and she rolled her eyes.  
"I guessed that."  
"But I will take it back if you don't mind. That one has good pockets."  
"Okay." She mused before resting her head on his chest so that he was embracing her. "I'll have to have something else that I can hold to ransom to make you visit me instead."  
"Just make sure you get the good cases at the morgue. Anything more than an eight and I'll be there frequently." He replied and Molly frowned, a small smile on her lips.  
"You know you could have said something cheesy like 'you have my heart' or something to that effect."  
"Oh." He said, thinking for a moment about it. "Wouldn't that be a little over the top?" He asked seriously and Molly laughed in reply which she could tell annoyed him a little. It was going to take him a while to get used to this.  
"I'm glad you're here." She said in a small voice and she felt his hold on her tighten.  
"So am I." He replied quietly and she let herself close her eyes and relax, the feeling of contentment spreading through her quickly the more she thought about what had just happened that night. It felt as she lay in his arms that nothing else mattered, not Moriarty's return or any other cases, that night was just about her and Sherlock and the very fact that he was there, just lying with her made her realise that he must feel the same way. That night was a break from his normal lifestyle but tomorrow, they would go back to their usual way of life except that there was now one thing completely different for Molly. She finally had what she had been wishing and hoping for for so long. She finally had Sherlock.

**So, there it is! I hope it works. Your reviews really made me want to write more so please keep them coming! They really make me giddy... :P**


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